Habeas Corpus
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: When a supposedly simple salt-and-burn goes wrong, Cas finds himself stripped of his powers and he, Sam and Dean end up in police custody awaiting trial. Their only hope of escape comes in the unlikely form of a lawyer working for the demonic corporation Wolfram & Hart, Crowley's only major rivals for the top spot in Hell. But will they accept help coming from such a source?


_**Habeas Corpus**_

**Summary: When a supposedly simple salt-and-burn goes wrong, Cas finds himself stripped of his powers and he, Sam and Dean end up in police custody, awaiting trial for a multitude of crimes they haven't committed. Their only hope of escape comes in the unlikely form of a back-from-the-dead lawyer working for the demonic corporation Wolfram & Hart, Crowley's only major rivals for the top spot in Hell. But will they accept help coming from such an untrustworthy source?**

**A/N: Okay, I know this is getting ridiculous. This will be something like my seventeenth in-progress multi-chapter fic I've started and don't intend to abandon, but when I get ideas I just can't relax until I get them at least partly written down. So, let's see how this goes. Timeline-wise this is early season eight of **_**Supernatural**_**, when Cas is still trying to be a hunter, and it's AU for **_**Angel **_**post-Not Fade Away, where the Apocalypse doesn't quite go according to plan for Wolfram & ****Hart, but doesn't happen exactly as shown in **_**After The Fall **_**either.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural_ or_ Angel: the Series_.**

_**Chapter One – Dealing The Cards  
**_

The plastic seat was hard and uncomfortable beneath him as he sat in the cramped room, waiting for somebody to return from the world outside. There were no windows or any source of natural light, but instead fluorescent panels in the ceiling provided a sickly yellow illumination for the space around him. There wasn't much to see, save for the gray walls and the shape of the steel door before him, or the table on which his hands rested. He drummed his fingers impatiently on its cool surface, wishing he could get up just to stretch his legs, but the cuffs around his wrists were chained to the table, making it impossible for him to get up from this seated position with any ease. The orange jumpsuit he wore also seemed to be growing increasingly uncomfortable, but he couldn't even scratch any of the itches arising due to its coarse fabric. Instead, he just had to tolerate it.

That all left him feeling rather irritable as he sat alone and waited, when it seemed like each minute stretched on for hours, his thoughts racing through his mind much too fast. Still he was replaying the events that had led to him ending up here, wondering where it had gone so wrong. It was supposed to have been simple: break into the museum, steal the amulet, and burn it. That should have been enough to break the curse, but then that spirit or demon or _something _had shown up just as they were about to make their way out, tripping all the alarm systems he was certain they'd disabled and blocking off their escape. It had been in a moment of desperation that Dean had turned to Cas to fly them out, given that he hated travelling by angel air in usual circumstances, but this had been pretty urgent. However, before Cas had chance to do anything the creature had attacked again, suddenly launching itself at the angel, and whatever happened then, moments later Cas found he was all out of angel juice and powerless to do anything. As the creature vanished, it was just the three of them left standing there, facing a team of armed policemen with no conceivable means of escape.

Dean clenched his fists as he remembered it, thinking he should have found a way to do something; when Cas had been attacked he should have got there first, fought the creature off and given Cas chance to fly Sam out. Then at least it would only be him in here and not all three of them. It had been a week since he'd seen either of them, and he didn't even know if he'd get the chance to see his brother or the angel again before the trial. In fact, he barely knew anything about what had happened to them, and that worried him deeply. Sam must have been charged with the same things he had - for all the murders their Leviathan doppelgangers had committed - but he didn't even know what Cas was being held for. Was it just the break-in at the museum? Or did they think Jimmy Novak had become caught up with the infamous Winchester brothers?

At length, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A burly prison guard stepped through, glowering at his prisoner. Dean just grinned in response. "There you are, sunshine. Good to see your face again. I was beginning to think you'd got lost."

His mocking was met with a grunt and a look that suggested the guard would like to punch Dean in the face right then and there, if it wouldn't cost him his job. "Mr Winchester, your lawyer's here," he said gruffly, his tone full of contempt for the man he thought was nothing but a low-life criminal.

Behind him, to Dean's surprise a woman stepped through the open doorway. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a suit jacket over a white blouse, with brown hair that fell down loose to splay over her shoulders, and had a red silk scarf wrapped elegantly around her neck. Had it been a lifetime ago, she was the kind of woman Dean probably would have hit on, but given his current situation and the toll that these past few years had taken on him, he really didn't have the heart for it. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow at her. "Not that I'm complaining, but what happened to the other guy? He get a better offer or something?"

"Mr Bowden is no longer the lawyer assigned to represent you," she said as she set down a briefcase on the table opposite him and took a seat, exuding an air of confidence. "My name is Lilah Morgan, and my firm have agreed to take yours and your brother's case."

His eyes widened slightly in surprise and curiosity, wondering why any law firm would volunteer to defend Sam and Dean Winchester – the brothers who had supposedly committed a multitude of massacres across the country with rock solid evidence against them. Before he had chance to say anything, she'd turned to glance back at the guard, who was lingering in the room and scowling at Dean. "You can go now," she said dismissively, and although he seemed to hesitate for just a moment, the authority in her tone was enough to get him to exit the room, allowing the door to swing closed with a loud clang behind him.

"Right then, pretty boy," she said, turning back to Dean, "It's time for you and I to talk business."

He was thrown a little by the nickname, being fairly certain that wasn't professional conduct for a lawyer, but he was more than a little intrigued by this turn of events and hopeful that it meant the situation was looking up. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he replied, "And not that I'm not grateful we don't have that other kid representing us anymore, but do you mind telling me _why _you're taking our case? Even from where I'm standing, it looks like the prosecutors have this in the bag."

She gave a slight smirk. "I work for a firm called Wolfram & Hart. Cases where the defendant seems certainly guilty, usually of pretty heinous crimes and there seems to be no way of them escaping conviction: that's kind of what we specialise in."

His eyes narrowed, beginning to view this situation with more than a little suspicion. That answer hadn't exactly been a clear explanation of a motive. "So you're telling me that you usually try and get murderers and those kind of low-lifes off?" he said, more than a little accusingly. Even if it would benefit him right now, he still couldn't quite warm to someone who actually liked defending that kind of scum. "You any good at it?"

"I've never lost a case," she answered smugly, and that at least was somewhat reassuring. But still, no matter which way he looked at it, the evidence against him and Sam was just too strong for either of them to get out of this scot free. He really hoped she was as good as he claimed.

"Yeah, well I'm sure you've seen the video evidence on this one. Any ideas on how you'll convince the jury it's fake? Because I don't see them buying it."

She gave him a knowing smirk, and leaned across the table towards him. "Well, the thing is Dean, those videos _are _actually fake. We both know you and Sam didn't really do any of those things."

That sentence was enough to set alarm bells ringing for him. Did that mean she knew about the Leviathans? And if so, did it make her an enemy or an ally? "Glad you believe us, but what makes you so sure?" He was trying to remain calm and not give anything away in his response, but the look in her eyes suggested she knew more than she was letting on.

Lilah sighed and leaned back in her seat again. Her gaze became unfocused for a moment, as if she was indulging herself in some private thought before turning her attention back to him. "You don't remember me at all, do you Dean?"

That response completely threw him again. "Why? Have we met?" He was feeling increasingly uneasy about the whole situation, and was beginning to doubt if she actually was a lawyer or if she had any intention of helping him at all.

"We have, actually," Lilah replied, glancing down for a moment. He waited expectantly to see if she would explain further, but when she looked up again, he saw that her grey eyes had turned completely black. _Demon._

Panic suddenly gripped him, every muscle in his body tensing up as he prepared to fight. The chain on the handcuffs rattled against the bar holding it as he instinctively pulled away, but he knew he had no chance of breaking it. If this was a demon come to kill him, there would be little that he could do. He just hoped that after she was finished with him she wouldn't get to Sam too.

However, Lilah made no move to attack. Instead she just chuckled, amused by his reaction, before blinking her eyes back to normal again. "Relax, freckles. I'm not here to hurt you; even if last time we met I was the one on your rack."

"What?" He was still on edge, not at all reassured, but her words had only confused him further.

"We spent a little time with each other in Hell. You were one of the ones responsible for turning me into this, but no hard feelings." She was giving him a teasing look, clearly enjoying his discomfort and confusion. "You were just doing what you had to. It actually worked out better for me in the end."

He stared at her, trying really hard to figure out what this was all about, but he was just drawing up blanks. "Really? Well goody for you, but if you're not going to kill me, will you just tell me what the hell is going on?" Dean snapped, his anger and frustration only amplified by his fear. He'd never thought he was going to have to face up to any of the souls he'd tortured in Hell ever again, but especially not like this: not when one of them was a fully-fledged demon in front of him, who for some reason was claiming she was here to help him.

Lilah opened up her briefcase and took out a few papers, which she thumbed through as she started to explain. "Well, the thing is, Dean, I work for a law firm run by demons. Have done since before I became one myself. This was all part of my contract: I die, they send me to Hell just long enough to turn me into a demon, which actually didn't take too long, then I come back and continue working for them. Now they want me to get you and Sam cleared of all charges." She looked through the papers in front of her and raised an eyebrow. "Of which there are quite a few."

The fact that there was a law firm out there somewhere run by demons was news to him, but more pressingly right now, there was one obvious thing that didn't make sense. "Why?" Dean demanded, "Why would a bunch of demons want us, of all people, to escape prison?"

"Let's just say my bosses aren't too happy with the way Hell is being run right now, and you and you brother are the two people in the best position to take out Crowley."

That still didn't give him the answer he wanted. "What's your bosses' beef with Crowley? You're all demons, aren't you?"

She sighed at that point, looking exasperated that she had to explain. "Didn't get much of a feel for how Hell works while you were down there, did you? Hell's been split into factions for as long as it's existed, all of them permanently in conflict until someone comes along powerful enough to assert dominance over everyone else. For a long while that was the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart. They held the top spot for millennia; even managed to cause their own Apocalypse once – well, sort of – but then you and your brother came along to upset the balance of power by freeing Lucifer from the cage. He was the major contender for the rule of Hell, until you managed to throw him back where you found him, so now the top spot's gone to a jumped up crossroads demon with an ego too big for his meatsuit. Can't say my bosses were too pleased with that, and they want their throne back. Since you boys have been doing such a good job of causing problems for Crowley lately, they want you to finish the job. We'll get you out of prison if you can bring their rival down."

Dean glared at her, a look of contempt etched on his face. "So you're saying this is a demonic power struggle, and you're offering to help us out if we'll do your dirty work?"

"Pretty much."

"Yeah? Well, no deal."

His tone had been resolute, but she just raised an eyebrow at him mockingly. "Really, Dean? Don't be stupid. Even if by some miracle you got out of here without our help, continuing to fight Crowley is only what you'd be doing anyway. It's not like we're even asking anything more of you here."

"Maybe, but I've been down the route of demon deals once, and that's not something I'm about to do again. Your answer's no."

His response was only met with a smirk. "Come on, Dean, it's not like I'm asking for your soul here. I'm not even asking for you to seal it with a kiss," – she emphasised that with a mocking pout – "I'm just asking for you to agree to let me help you, in return for something you would have only done anyway."

A look of deep distaste flickered across his face. "You can spin this whatever way you like, but I'm not about to become some demon's bitch just to stay out of jail."

There was a beat, and then Lilah pushed her paperwork to one side and leaned across the table to fix her attention more closely on him, her expression much more serious than a moment ago. "Dean, think about this just for one second. Do you imagine you have even a chance of escaping without my help? And if you do get convicted, you and Sam aren't just facing a lifetime in prison; you're facing the death penalty. Are you really going to throw your life away just because it was a demon that offered you a way out?"

They stared at each other fiercely for a few seconds, tension crackling through the air between them as Dean slowly came to the realisation that he had little choice. He really didn't want to agree to this, and he especially didn't trust her, but right now he didn't have any other feasible plan for escape.

Sighing discontentedly, he leaned back in his seat away from her. "Fine. But you do realise that just because you get us off, _if _you can even manage it, that we won't let you go about your business as usual afterwards? If there's a demonic law firm out there literally helping people get away with murder, then after Crowley, you're next on my list."

"By all means," Lilah answered, rising to the challenge in his tone, "But please understand, Dean, just how insignificant of a threat you are to us. That demon tablet you're working on right now? It'll be a neat little way to take Crowley's power down a notch, but the Senior Partners work a little differently. That's why it's not easy for us to close the Gates of Hell, but if you can manage it, then actually that works out pretty well for us. So please, carry on with whatever agenda you have, and we'll carry on with ours. If they ever clash, then that's a bridge we'll cross when we get to it. Just don't expect it to turn out well for you."

An unsettling chill ran down his spine at the implication that even if he and Sam did succeed in closing the Gates of Hell, then there were still other evil forces out there to be reckoned with, but he wasn't sure by how much she might be exaggerating to intimidate him. "Right then," he answered resentfully. "If that's the way it is. So you want me to make a deal with you to agree to let you represent us at the trial?"

"Not so much a deal. More, I'm going to represent you at the trial whether you like it or not, and when you're left off, you're going to continue working against Crowley just like we want you to."

She was giving him a smug look, knowing she had all the power in this situation, but he shook his head. "No, Lilah, this is a deal, because I have conditions. First, Sam has to agree to this too."

"He already has," she said dismissively. "At least, he said he would, provided you did. I spoke to him already. Since he's the brains of the two of you, I figured it would be easier to get him to realise that your co-operation in this situation would be the best course of action."

Dean glared at her, both for the insult and for the fact she hadn't told him this before. "Right. Well in that case, my other demand is that I get to see him before the trial. No keeping us separated, we get to talk and see each other while they're holding us in prison."

"Done." The answer was dismissive, as if that was too minor a detail to even bother haggling over.

"And the other thing is Cas. What's happened to him?"

"Castiel is being held under the belief that he is in fact Jimmy Novak, and has been charged with attempted robbery and the murder of the bodies found at the museum. I can't say what it was that caused the loss of his powers, although my bet would be on something to do with that cursed necklace you were trying to burn."

"That's my final condition. You make sure Cas gets out as well."

At that, she flashed him a glare, before leaning back in her seat away from him. "Sorry, no can do on that one. Castiel isn't part of the agreement."

"Then there is no agreement," Dean responded firmly, giving her a hard look.

She rolled her eyes, once again frustrated by his idiotic refusal to co-operate. "Dean, I'm not giving you a choice here. You can try to request another lawyer if you like, but I won't make it easy for you."

"And I won't make it easy for you unless you help Cas out. Maybe he's not facing the death penalty, but he is facing a long time in prison, and for an angel without his powers, that's as good as the same thing. I don't like this deal to start with, Lilah, but unless Cas gets something out of it, then I'm not getting involved at all."

"Dean, I'm a demon. If the word 'angel' can be applied to something, I tend to delight in screwing it over."

"Then make an exception, because that's the only way you'll get me to agree to this." He was bluffing. He knew that if he didn't accept her help now, then he had no backup plan whatsoever to do anything to help either Cas or Sam, but he hoped that if he just acted confidently enough then he'd get her to crack.

There was a tense moment as they both glared at each other, but eventually it was Lilah who sighed and backed down. "Alright," she said irritably, "I'll represent the angel too, if that's what it takes to keep you happy, but I doubt the Senior Partners will be best pleased about it."

"Sorry, is that something I'm supposed to care about?" Dean commented snidely, and although she didn't retaliate she narrowed her eyes.

"Do we have a deal then?" A hand was being offered for him to shake, close enough to the cuffs that he'd be able to reach, but he made no move to do so. Instead, he just fixed her with a hard gaze, which she returned with equal intensity.

"For now," Dean finally answered coldly.

The glare went on a moment longer before she snatched her hand away, and then roughly thrust the paperwork back into her briefcase and snapped it shut. "Very well," she said in a clipped tone, "If that's the case, I'll be back to discuss this further at a later date."

"You do that," Dean responded coolly. It was obvious from her tone that the meeting hadn't gone exactly as she'd hoped it would, but he'd be damned if he was going to let a demon have all the power in a situation like this. Well, maybe he was damned already, but he wasn't going to let it go any further.

Lilah got up stiffly from her chair and headed back to the door, rapping on it for the guard to let her out. As it cracked open she glanced back, shooting him a teasing smirk. "Well, this was fun, freckles. I'll see you again some time." That was her last attempt to show him who was in charge here, before she turned to step out of the dark box of a room and back into the world outside.

Dean watched the door as it clanged shut behind her, feeling the beginnings of relief that there might be a way out of this after all, but also a growing sense of dread at what would be the cost.


End file.
